Oh, she's not leaving your side. You have a tiny ghostly companion for the duration.

You walk down the decrepit hallway and toward a small, dark parlor, illuminated by recently lamps, from the smell of the sulfur in the room. The woman is lounging on a divan, sipping on a drink - You see a small bar lined with ancient, dusty bottles, one unstopped.
They tell ya that whiskey gets better with age, but I say shenanigans to that - this stuff just tastes like really old rotten corn. Care for a touch - curl the hairs on yer toes! Ha!

She has a sparkle in her eye that is disconcerting.

Now then, to the point of it - Do you have any idea where you are, and I don't mean some place called Mordent in some dead guy's house on some hill?

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Our son won't stop doing math, honey!

Not in my house mister!!! You can differentiate all you want with your little hoodlum friends, but in here it's wild guesses and rounding errors!

Thought not. Well, I'm here to elucidate you, yep! See, some folks call this the land of the Mists, or the Domain of Dread, or what have you. You're well-traveled, so you've spent time in the Ethereal. Well, that's where we are, a little pocket of the Ethereal, trying to grow into a proper plane. It's really a sort of chained archipelagos of connected pockets, all loosely grouped together by a singular power - the Mists themselves.

She gives you a questioning look, but continues -

No, I'm not ma... I take that back - I'm nuttier'n a fruitcake, but I'm spot on with this. This Domain of Dread has one big purpose, and that is to distill evil - it hungers for evil. It subsists on it. That means it draws the very nastiest folks from the Prime here, to one of the little pockets, and they do their thing, like be terrible ghosts, or avaricious vampires or lying scoundrels - it takes all sorts, and the realm grows.

She pauses -

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Our son won't stop doing math, honey!

Not in my house mister!!! You can differentiate all you want with your little hoodlum friends, but in here it's wild guesses and rounding errors!

Well, the very most nastiest of the nasty, they figure out that the Mists are eating them, after a fashion. I've seen it in a few of the pockets here - The Lord here, Godfrey, he's just an example, but he's a piker and a coward when it comes to brass tacks. He knows what the Mists have done for him, and what they do to him. He's learned to compensate. He, very occasionally, manages to call a particular nice, sweet, and kind individual, trick 'em, and then... eat them, after a fashion. His power bulks up, which allows his realm to grow, and it seems to make those tricksy Mists content, too. I mean, you've gotta admit it's pretty low-down, calling some on-high do-gooder out to be a planar meal.

She smiles, really big -

It really only has a tiny little bit to do with you, per se, though, like I said, you're the catalyst. See, Godfrey's been running Mordent into the ground for a while now and that's just not acceptable. So I'm takin' over!

She hoots.

And you are a particularly nutritious meal, so to speak. I sac you, go banish poor little Godfrey to Barovia or someplace else where he can contend with some other loser, and with my new spledifferous Mizuki power I become the Much More Beautiful and Terrible Lord Queen of Mordent - nice title, eh? Thought of it myself - oh, and probably a few neighboring little pockets, too. Oh, this is going to be so cool! I am so happy I found this place. Unlimited potential, I tells ya! Unlimited!

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Our son won't stop doing math, honey!

Not in my house mister!!! You can differentiate all you want with your little hoodlum friends, but in here it's wild guesses and rounding errors!

((sorry for the delay))Me? Well, I just told you my soon-to-be title, but that really doesn't help, now, does it?

She smiles again - You know, I guess it wouldn't do any harm telling you who I am, though I've to say, I've had so many names over the years - So many different times, so many different faces. Ah, the memories.

She looks mock wistful for just a moment -

Oh, I could hear myself talk all day. Most recently, I was known as Abigail, Lady of Azure Flame, a priestess of... oh some local power or whatnot. I lose track of all the dogma. She, er, I was an important figure in a city called Haven. Heard of it? I'm not surprised, really - festering cyst of a city, really awful...

You blade glows brighter as it senses the quarry before you and sparks fly from the waver of air before you. You hear the disembodied voice scream.

Can't be hit and can hit me here. Little tree- spirit -

Her voice is decidedly sing-song and menacing -

Just what did you bring me?

The little spirit smiles at you and then speaks out, toward the center of the room, in the direction of the blur.

You bade me call the most powerful of my kind that was not royalty. Mizuki is a river daughter, and the daughter of the Emmissary of Ehlonna. I believe that qualifies.You little bark-faced bitch! I'll kill you again!!! Mizuki, it appears that your services are not needed - you are... overqualified. Now, if you don't mind, I've a spirit to destroy and a Lord of Mordent to kill the hard way.

You can hear the unease in Abigail's voice. The little spirit looks at you pleadingly -

The wood! Burn the wood!

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Our son won't stop doing math, honey!

Not in my house mister!!! You can differentiate all you want with your little hoodlum friends, but in here it's wild guesses and rounding errors!

Your friend materializes and moves through the door with incredible speed, laughing loudly at the spectres that feel the need to move their incorporeal bodies out of the way. The dryad spirit fades with a shout -

Quickly, to the old spruce!

The blur coalesces into a loose shape, vaguely female, still a spirit -

What do you think you are trying to do, here? I'm the one in control! I'm the one who brought you here? I can certainly cast you out whenever I damn well feel like it!

Strange that she hasn't yet, as you take another thrust with your blade.

Stop That!

She attempts some incantation, quickly, and you see the sparks of a failed dweomer shed across your skin.

And that too!

Almost there, river-daughter!

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Our son won't stop doing math, honey!

Not in my house mister!!! You can differentiate all you want with your little hoodlum friends, but in here it's wild guesses and rounding errors!

"I'm glad you're still so chatty. It's very diverting. And, oh yes, you're certainly in total control here. I'm all aquiver. Terrified even." I smile, as I continue to do what I can to completely destroy this leech.

It doesn't work that way, pet. Goodness me. Do you think I chose this for myself? No, it's the Mists, they chose me. They might have chosen you, but not here, I'm so, sorry. They won't be able to chose you, once I finish with you.

Gennifer looks at you in horror -

I never - I didn't have any... Please forgive me!

She collapses, crying.
Pathetic worm - Once Godfrey's destroyed, the vacuum will -

I can't be destroyed you stupid, stupid girl- don't you think I've tried? Think you'd have learned something about the place your planning on ruling -

Lies -

Ah, what's this? The blood bond is gone, and I see that this little bright shining pest is no longer bound to my realm. Good riddance Miss Mizuki, I hope to never see you again. Don't worry, though - I'll toy with this one a good long time before I send her into torment.

You see Scratch, her head low, her nose a bit singed, coming into the room. She nearly knocks Gennifer down, she is so crestfallen in her task -

What in the world!

Oh, pardon. Mizuki, can we please leave this place?

Ah yes, the pest's pet. Begone with you both - I've torture to plan. Oh, and great-granddaughter, be a dear and clean that corpse off of my floor.

Gennifer looks to the ground, shrugs, tears in her eyes -

Yes, of course, Lord Godfrey.

You feel a definite sense of fading, either you and Scratch are beginning to fade, or this realm is. The hazy form of Abigail, her spirit body torn and bereft from your assault, is before you - you almost can see her eyes, and in that almost form, they look pleading. You see Godfrey apparate just next to her. He smiles menacingly as he waves at you.

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Our son won't stop doing math, honey!

Not in my house mister!!! You can differentiate all you want with your little hoodlum friends, but in here it's wild guesses and rounding errors!

You step and fall, seemingly into a pit the drop is so sudden and you automatically scramble for balance. You see Scratch do the same thing, and you see her tumble about, trying to catch wind, in vain.

The area around you is completely dark - can only see the heat from Scratch. You have the definite sense of rapid movement, though there is no breeze and no reference in the distance.

You continue for quite some time, traveling through this void. You lose much of your sense of time, but you feel as if there is a presence observing you, trying to... force something upon you, and then, nothing. You do, however become aware in this blackness of a yawning maw, still black, but with the tinges of darkest red. You smell dust and bones, feel heat, hear the clink of wooden chimes, the sound of the wind against the dunes of sand.

You see the maw open and in a moment you are standing upon sand and you see a bright, barren sky, a young woman standing before you.

((You are the 4th to Athas. Welcome home!!!))

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Our son won't stop doing math, honey!

Not in my house mister!!! You can differentiate all you want with your little hoodlum friends, but in here it's wild guesses and rounding errors!